Hunted Down | Page 9

lies before us, and you know what
an awful sight of power without pity it might be, this very night!'
'Yes!'
'But if you had never heard or seen it, or heard of it in its cruelty, could
you believe that it beats every inanimate thing in its way to pieces,
without mercy, and destroys life without remorse?'
'You terrify me, sir, by these questions!'
'To save you, young lady, to save you! For God's sake, collect your
strength and collect your firmness! If you were here alone, and
hemmed in by the rising tide on the flow to fifty feet above your head,
you could not be in greater danger than the danger you are now to be
saved from.'
The figure on the sand was spun out, and straggled off into a crooked
little jerk that ended at the cliff very near us.

'As I am, before Heaven and the Judge of all mankind, your friend, and
your dead sister's friend, I solemnly entreat you, Miss Niner, without
one moment's loss of time, to come to this gentleman with me!'
If the little carriage had been less near to us, I doubt if I could have got
her away; but it was so near that we were there before she had
recovered the hurry of being urged from the rock. I did not remain there
with her two minutes. Certainly within five, I had the inexpressible
satisfaction of seeing her - from the point we had sat on, and to which I
had returned - half supported and half carried up some rude steps
notched in the cliff, by the figure of an active man. With that figure
beside her, I knew she was safe anywhere.
I sat alone on the rock, awaiting Mr. Slinkton's return. The twilight was
deepening and the shadows were heavy, when he came round the point,
with his hat hanging at his button-hole, smoothing his wet hair with one
of his hands, and picking out the old path with the other and a
pocket-comb.
'My niece not here, Mr. Sampson?' he said, looking about.
'Miss Niner seemed to feel a chill in the air after the sun was down, and
has gone home.'
He looked surprised, as though she were not accustomed to do anything
without him; even to originate so slight a proceeding.
'I persuaded Miss Niner,' I explained.
'Ah!' said he. 'She is easily persuaded - for her good. Thank you, Mr.
Sampson; she is better within doors. The bathing-place was farther than
I thought, to say the truth.'
'Miss Niner is very delicate,' I observed.
He shook his head and drew a deep sigh. 'Very, very, very. You may
recollect my saying so. The time that has since intervened has not
strengthened her. The gloomy shadow that fell upon her sister so early

in life seems, in my anxious eyes, to gather over her, ever darker, ever
darker. Dear Margaret, dear Margaret! But we must hope.'
The hand-carriage was spinning away before us at a most indecorous
pace for an invalid vehicle, and was making most irregular curves upon
the sand. Mr. Slinkton, noticing it after he had put his handkerchief to
his eyes, said;
'If I may judge from appearances, your friend will be upset, Mr.
Sampson.'
'It looks probable, certainly,' said I.
'The servant must be drunk.'
'The servants of old gentlemen will get drunk sometimes,' said I.
'The major draws very light, Mr. Sampson.'
'The major does draw light,' said I.
By this time the carriage, much to my relief, was lost in the darkness.
We walked on for a little, side by side over the sand, in silence. After a
short while he said, in a voice still affected by the emotion that his
niece's state of health had awakened in him,
'Do you stay here long, Mr. Sampson?'
'Why, no. I am going away to-night.'
'So soon? But business always holds you in request. Men like Mr.
Sampson are too important to others, to be spared to their own need of
relaxation and enjoyment.'
'I don't know about that,' said I. 'However, I am going back.'
'To London?'
'To London.'

'I shall be there too, soon after you.'
I knew that as well as he did. But I did not tell him so. Any more than I
told him what defensive weapon my right hand rested on in my pocket,
as I walked by his side. Any more than I told him why I did not walk
on the sea side of him with the night closing in.
We left the beach, and our ways diverged. We exchanged goodnight,
and had parted indeed, when he said, returning,
'Mr. Sampson, MAY I ask? Poor Meltham, whom we spoke of, - dead
yet?'
'Not when I last heard of him;